


When Darkness Falls

by ikoliholic



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Erik Has Feelings, Fix-It, M/M, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), X-Men: Apocalypse Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7049332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikoliholic/pseuds/ikoliholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?”</em>
</p><p>In the middle of the night, Erik finds himself consumed by things left unsaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Darkness Falls

_“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?”_

***

“Hello, old friend.” Charles doesn’t need to even look up from where he’s lying in bed, still wide awake. He cannot physically see him, but already he knows that it is Erik who stands across the grand expanse of the master bedroom, looming in the soft shadows, thoughtful and silent. “Come out of the darkness, won’t you?”

He does not intend to read Erik’s thoughts, tempted as he is, wondering why on earth his old friend has effortlessly snuck into his bedroom so soon after they’d said their goodbyes once more. Not even twelve hours have passed since, in fact. He hears Erik shift, can feel the grin across his face widen, but he still remains hidden from Charles’s plain sight.

“I’ve been thinking,” Erik says after a short while, pacing a few steps further towards the bed. He drags his fingers lightly across the edge of the thick, heavy duvet before pausing when he reaches the end of the wooden frame. His voice is a low, lilting whisper, eyes filled with mirth and agony alike when Charles finally sees them, dim moonlight glow illuminating the room. “About what you said.”

“What I said?” Charles speaks evenly and with genuine question; they have said many things to each other, after all, and he does not wish to presume anything.

Erik smiles again, shaking his head gently while wondering how the gifted man before him manages to have consideration enough to not delve into the mess of his own mind when it would be so easy to. “Perhaps I was thinking about what _I_ said too. What I didn’t say…” Erik hesitates then, looks down at Charles and finds that he cannot continue. His friend’s beautiful face is in partial shadow, dark and light dancing about soft features, though no amount of darkness can consume the allure and burn of such an intense gaze.

“Is that why you’ve returned?” Charles shuffles himself further up the plump pillows his head rests on, reaching over to pull on the metal chain of his bedside lamp. Still, Erik finds no words to return. “I thought it might be years before I saw you again, my friend.” The bright blue burn of Charles’s eyes is fiercer still with the soft sodium lighting up his face as richly as the affection in his voice, making Erik want to snap the metal stand in two. He doesn’t, of course. Instead he remains silent and suddenly irked with fists clenched, unwilling to avert his own eyes, equally headstrong until Charles speaks again. “Is there something else you wish to tell me, Erik?”

“The middle of the night.” Erik has always hated it, being awake early enough to hear the birds chirping in the still-greyness. Worrying about the future and if it will be as unfortunate as the past. He breathes deeply, swallows his fear. “It’s a horrible time to be alone. Thinking.”

“I quite agree.” Charles’s smile, his beautiful, trusting, loving smile — it breaks Erik’s heart just to look at it. Charles breathes deeply now. “But is that all you're here for, or you have something more that you wish to say?”

In truth, Erik has _so many_ things that he wishes to say, wishes he could find the strength to say to his friend. His friend who has saved him over and over and over again throughout the years, throughout the pain. Instead though, he finds himself asking only one thing of the person who knows him like no other:

“Read my thoughts.”

Charles’s smile fades into a simmering little thing at this, cautious and more worried than before, but he nods nonetheless. Then, Erik is sitting on the bed, shuffling up it and tentatively he closes his eyes, leans forward so that Charles may place his fingers onto his temple if he chooses to. Telepathy will let be known that which cannot be said aloud.

_I love you_

_I miss you_

_I am in pain_

_I am sorry_

A moment passes, and Erik does not feel any connection made. His eyes open. Glassy blue is all that he sees, and all he can hear and feel is stuttered breath, mere inches away.

“Erik,” Charles gasps softly. “Oh, Erik. I do not need to read your thoughts.” The fact that they are together alone in the dead of night is surely reason enough. Charles knows that the guilt and shame and regret will be all-consuming. Besides, Erik’s pain rumbles already through his bones. It always will, always has since the moment they met.

“Please,” Erik pleads anyway, placing his own fingertips atop Charles’s temples as though he’s granted with the same cursed gift. “Please.” He affirms, closes his eyes again, pretending further that he can feel the strands of hair that should cover his friend’s head instead of a strange smoothness; yet more physical damage granted to a soul undeserving. Again, Erik is to blame. He is always to blame, for all of the agony and loss.

Charles trembles beneath the touch, but rises his own hands to match, to heed. He keeps them there, but still he does not read Erik’s thoughts, rather he feels rattling lungs, hammering heart, shaking breath.

Pain. Fear. Love.

“It will grow back, I’m sure.” Charles says after a moment, knowing already that it won’t.

The attempt to lighten with distraction almost works. Erik laughs, his grin turns almost wolfish, manic, as tears finally roll freely down his face. He grips Charles’s wrists, moves shaking fingers to his own temples; immediately Charles curves them around the nape of his neck instead, stroking delicately.

“I betrayed you.” It comes out easier than expected, in the end.

“You were in pain.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Yes,” Charles tightens his grip as though he would never let go. “Yes, it does.”

Erik leans into a touch long forgotten, deep in reflection as silence once again consumes them both. Then he closes his eyes, breathes steady and harsh, forehead pressed against Charles’s. With his power, the metal chain of the lamp clicks off, and darker colours sweep over the room again. When he finds strength enough to open his eyes, the bright glow has not changed, not really. It would never change.

“Maybe I need to stop running,” he says, finally.

Knowing eyes widen. “Perhaps you do.” Charles’s voice quavers, but his caress remains steadfast against Erik’s skin; a promise.

“Do I?” Erik’s thumbs press gently into the pale, smooth throat beneath now, skitter up to a slack jaw, across open mouth. “Can I?” His eyes close once more, but he can feel familiar rosy lips smile under rough, calloused pads, and he knows the answer already coming.

Still, the gentle voice vibrates through every fibre of his body, pleasant and painful alike. “You can.”

When their lips meet, words and thoughts swallowed and subsumed by a love that will override all agony in its path, Erik finally finds himself convinced.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, any comments you have would be especially appreciated, as this is my first venture into writing Charles and Erik. ~~also i'm kinda thinking about writing a porny chapter two, meep~~ <3


End file.
